Needless Things: Head in the Clouds

HEAD IN THE CLOUDS

I walk with my head in the clouds,   where thunder hides behind soft light, A dreamer stitched from vapor and static,   half in shadow, half in flight.

Below me, the world keeps burning,   all noise, all gravity, all demand, But up here, thought turns to weather,   and belief melts like sand in my hand.

The sky does not promise salvation,   it only offers a place to drift, A quiet above the chaos,   where even sorrow begins to lift.

Some call it foolish escape,   others whisper it’s how souls survive— For those with head in the clouds   still feel the storm, but float just enough to stay alive. NNN